


for whatever we lose

by dilkirani



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Memory Loss, Post-Season/Series 01, Season 2 Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7221013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dilkirani/pseuds/dilkirani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz wakes up after nine days with no memory of any of the team, and Jemma is doing the best she can.</p><p>For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)<br/>its always ourselves we find in the sea<br/>e.e.cummings</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I - Jemma

**Author's Note:**

> hugs & kisses to itsavolcano for the beta!

She sits by his bed for nine days. Nine days of not thinking about any bottom-of-the-ocean confession or how she feels about it. Nine days of reading and rereading his medical chart, of researching oxygen deprivation, potential prognoses, of creating recovery timelines based on any and all possible outcomes. Nine days of not crying, not even once.

When he finally wakes, she holds her breath for longer than she had when fighting for the surface. She knows she can save them both.

He blinks at her, sluggishly, his brilliant blue eyes dulled. He doesn’t say anything, and she still doesn’t cry.

++

Skye comes by with tea—not quite like Fitz would have made it, but Jemma finds herself comforted nonetheless.

“He’s started speaking, a bit,” Jemma tells her in a flat, professional tone, as if she’d been practicing.

“Do you know um, what… he’ll be like?” She knows that Skye is trying, she really is. Skye had cried by Fitz’s bedside one night, confessing that she was still heartbroken about Ward and she hated herself for it. Skye blames herself for too much, for everything. Jemma tries to reassure her, but she’s too cowardly to admit her own role in Fitz’s trauma. That knowledge is choking her.

Jemma sighs, sipping her tea and leaning back in the chair, exhaustion seeping through every pore. “The doctors aren’t sure yet. He hasn’t regained use of his arm. They think there’s some memory loss. It’s difficult to ascertain how much because of the aphasia.” There’s been a fear lodged in the back of her mind that she doesn’t allow herself to articulate to anyone yet. Jemma knows Fitz’s face better than she knows her own, but she has never seen this blank expression focused on her before.

When Fitz finally asks who she is, Jemma smiles stiffly. “I’m Dr. Jemma Simmons,” she says. “We worked… work together.”

“W-we-we’re…. fr-fr-fr…”

“Friends?” Jemma supplies, and he nods, forehead scrunched in frustration.

“Yes, we’re friends.” She tries to relax her face. He won’t believe her if she doesn’t attempt to look friendly.

That night in her bunk, for the first time in months, she cries. She doesn’t even feel sad; she is blindingly angry. _You said I was more than that_ she screams into her pillow. _How can you say that and then forget me_?

Jemma prides herself on being logical, analytical. She has studied the brain, dissected it, measured tissue. She can be detached. But she can’t help the way his betrayal cuts through her. How much could he have possibly loved her, if 90 feet of water was enough to drown the best years of their lives together? Why can’t he just _try harder_?

She knows she’s being unfair. But she also knows, has known since he woke up and didn’t recognize her, that she’s in love with him. She’s always loved him but she still took the last breath and emerged unscathed. She knows that she could never have forgotten him, no matter what.

++

Trip and Mack help with Fitz’s physical therapy, while she compiles articles for him to read. He’s forgotten most of his post-doctorate schooling, but his brain is reworking connections fast enough. He is still easily frustrated, but he reads textbooks voraciously, his love of physics and engineering unharmed.

If Fitz truly remembered what a genius he was, if he had any idea of what he'd forgotten, Jemma thinks it wouldn’t be this easy to work with him. He’s not learning anywhere close to his pre-accident pace, but he’s still far faster than what a person with above-average intelligence could manage, and he seems increasingly confident in his abilities.

He still doesn’t remember any of them, and it’s painful and a little fascinating to watch him rebuild relationships.

Mostly it’s painful.

Without whatever had been going on before (looking back, after his confession, Jemma suspects jealousy), Fitz bonds quickly with Trip, and he adores Mack. She often finds them playing Xbox together after physical therapy sessions. Hunter is their strange tagalong brother who’s always encouraging them to unwind with beers after any mission. When she walks by the common room after late nights in the lab, she can hear them all drinking and laughing, Fitz occasionally chiming in with a sentence or two. She never joins them.

He’d never had a lot of male friends. He was awkward and shy and felt threatened because he was so much smaller than everyone else. Ward had actually been the first—but Jemma shuts down any thought of Ward as soon as it appears. She can't afford the additional torture.

Jemma should be so happy for Fitz. _Aren’t people supposed to be selfless when they love someone?_ But she doesn’t feel happy; she feels hurt and jealous. When they had been partnered together in chem lab, they fell into friendship fast and easily. They were finishing each other’s sentences and staying up too late working on side projects or watching Doctor Who within weeks.

It’s been months, and he treats her like his doctor, not his friend. He says his goal is to be able to come back to the lab and work with her, but he doesn’t seem particularly interested in rekindling their friendship. She joined Mack, Trip, and Fitz for dinner one night but left halfway through, face burning and sick to her stomach. _You didn’t even LIKE Trip,_ she wants to yell. _You’d never even MET Mack_. _I’m trying so hard, and you just want to let me go._

She thinks she might hate him. If he had never said she was more than that, she wouldn’t be second-guessing their every interaction. She wouldn’t be trying to find any sign that he still felt the same way. He forced her into a broken heart. How could he do that? How can you treat someone you love like that?

Being in love with Fitz is a constant exercise in pain management. It’s an incurable condition, palliative treatment her only option.

++

Jemma barely sleeps. She works overtime for Coulson, trying to manage her job on top of Fitz’s, and her free time is spent tutoring Fitz or researching new possibilities for memory recovery.

She briefly flashes onto the memory machine, but instantly dismisses the thought. She had studied Fitz’s notes and thinks she can repair it, but she would never torture Fitz like that. Right now she hates him, but she will always love him.

She’s lost weight; it seems like Fitz is always in the kitchen with someone else and she can’t stand to be there. She should be happy that he’s laughing again, but he never laughs with her and it burns.

So it takes awhile before she notices that Skye and Fitz have been meeting for TV nights with increasing regularity. She's sure nothing is going on—Fitz had never been Skye’s type, anyway. But she hears them watching Doctor Who and thinks if there were ever anything in her stomach, she would lose it. Skye doesn’t even _like_ Doctor Who. She’d made fun of them for watching it so many times.

That night, Jemma sobs into her pillow. It’s only the second time she’s broken down, but when she wakes up she decides that she needs to formulate a plan. This isn’t her; she’s stronger than this. She can’t keep letting him destroy her.

++

Skye knocks gently on her door. It’s a Saturday morning, which normally doesn’t mean anything but for once work has slowed down a bit, enabling Jemma to sleep much later than she’d anticipated.

“Come in,” she mutters groggily, shocked to see that it’s almost 10am.

Skye slips inside, holding up a cup of tea in offering. “Sorry to wake you,” she says apologetically. “I just wondered if we could talk?”

Jemma sits up and pats beside her on the bed, reaching for the cup gratefully.

“So…” Skye pauses and shifts, and Jemma narrows her eyes. She hasn’t seen her friend looking this uncomfortable in a long time. “Um, so Fitz kind of… asked me out last night?”

“Oh.” Jemma is fine. She is fine, she is fine, she is fine.

Skye is rambling now. “It was weird, I mean we’d been watching a movie and kind of, I mean we might have been drinking a bit. I mean we weren’t _drunk_ , but yeah. We’d been having a good time. And he asked me and I said I wasn’t sure, it feels a bit weird since he doesn’t have any of his memories of us back. Then he kind of, um, kissed me.”

Jemma snorts out a laugh and Skye blinks at her, surprised. “No, it’s nothing. Go on.” It’s actually that Skye’s words punched her like the water when they’d blown the med pod’s window, and she’s annoyed at how ridiculously dramatic it is to think that way.

After all, she’s not dying this time. _She’s not dying_.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have. The thing is, I’ve never felt like that about Fitz. I love him, he’s one of my best friends, but I just… don’t feel that way. But I feel so guilty about Ward and… Fitz is such a good guy. I _should_ feel this way about him. Maybe if I had none of this would have happened. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Skye is crying now and Jemma stares at her for a second before setting her mug down and reaching for her. It’s been awhile since she’s had human contact—she and Fitz had always been in each other’s personal space, but that ended with their friendship. She tries to quiet her mind, tries to pretend that being enveloped in someone else’s arms, comforting and being comforted, is the only thing that exists.

“Oh, Skye. There’s nothing wrong with you. None of this is your fault.”

Skye doesn’t respond, just hugs Jemma tighter, attempting to quiet her sobs.

“What happened then?” Jemma finally asks, and she’s proud of herself for her bravery, for the way her voice doesn’t waver.

“I told him it wasn’t a good idea. I said that we were just friends and I was feeling guilty about what happened to him, and that he doesn’t really feel that way about me.”

“I’m sure he loved that.”

Skye smiles sadly. “Yeah, he’s very touchy about being told how he feels. He thinks it’s unfair that we all remember and he doesn’t, and it’s true, we can’t help treating him differently. I think that’s why he’s so close to Mack, there’s no history there. But really, I don’t think he even feels that way about me now. I’m just… _here_.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Jemma says softly. “He did have a crush on you, when you first joined the team.”

Skye shrugs. “Yeah, but not for very long. To be honest, I always thought he was in love with you. Especially after the Chitauri virus, it just… sometimes he would say things, or the way he’d look at you. But both of you said you were just friends and there was nothing there. And it seemed like you didn’t feel the same way, so I never pushed it.”

Jemma doesn’t quite stop herself from stiffening and Skye freezes, wide-eyed. “Do… do you? Feel the same way?”

Jemma doesn’t say anything, just twists her fingers into her blanket and wonders what dying feels like. It’s living that she finds so excruciating lately.

Skye starts crying again and Jemma no longer has the strength to move. “I never would’ve, I had no idea. I asked you and you never—I’m so sorry, I ruined everything, please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Skye,” Jemma reassures her. Skye would never intentionally hurt either of them, and she can’t be expected to understand her heart when Jemma had never understood it herself.

“We can fix this,” she says, grabbing Jemma’s hands and pleading with her. “He still loves you, I know he does.”

“There’s nothing to fix, Skye. He doesn’t remember us, and he doesn’t feel the way he used to.”

“But if you’d just try—”

“You think I’m not _trying_?”

“No, no, I don’t mean like that. I know you’re working so hard to help him, but he’s… he’s actually doing really well, you know? Not like the old Fitz, but he’s improving a lot and I think… maybe he just would like to be friends? He does talk about you a lot. He keeps telling me how brilliant you are, and how he's been reading a lot of scientific articles in his free time trying to catch up. But it’s like, he’s always trying to impress you and maybe it would help your relationship if you just talked to him like a friend and not like his doctor or teacher.”

Jemma knows Skye is only trying to help, but right now everything is falling apart around her. _Fitz kissed Skye. He told me he loved me and then he kissed Skye._

“I think I’d just like to be alone right now, if that’s all right?” Jemma lays back down before Skye can answer, barely hears her apologies as she closes the door. Jemma doesn’t leave her bed until Monday morning.

++

“Were we really friends?” Fitz asks her, as he helps her prepare samples in the lab. He’s improved so much; his bad hand prevents him from working on some of the more delicate tasks, and he still gets frustrated, but he’s become an invaluable lab assistant. _Her_ Fitz would probably be furious to find he’d been relegated to her assistant, but her Fitz died almost a year ago at the bottom of the ocean, and this one seems content with his progress and constantly in awe of the work they do for SHIELD.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Um, it’s j-just that… we w-work well with, with—together, but you don’t seem to… like me v-very much?”

Jemma bites down on her lip, surprised. She can’t imagine her Fitz broaching a topic like this. She knows it’s not healthy to think of _her Fitz_ as someone separate from the man standing in front of her, and it’s not fair to him. But she needs to protect herself and that’s easier if she can believe her best friend isn’t the one consistently rejecting her.

“Of course I like you. Why do you say that?”

Fitz narrows his eyes, scrutinizing her face as if to gauge whether or not she’s lying, and she turns away, tired of being so exposed.

“You just n-never hang out with us. We invite you to watch mov-movies with us or have dinner, but you never do. Or you leave early. But you-you hang out with ev-every, with… other people, if I’m not there.”

Jemma huffs out a breath, trying to keep her anger in check. “I’m doing the job of two people right now,” she says. “More, really. I don’t have the time to play games.”

Fitz flinches. “I’m trying my-my best. To help in the—in the lab.”

Jemma nods but doesn’t say anything, not trusting herself to keep her secrets hidden.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Fitz,” she sighs. “Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”

When he doesn’t answer, she snaps off her gloves and walks out of the lab.

“I’m sorry for forgetting you,” he says softly to her retreating figure. He hates that he’s not brave enough to say it to her face.

++

A week later, Jemma decides to follow Skye’s advice and make a different kind of effort. Maybe things would never be the same between them again, but she misses Fitz so much. Maybe she should let go of the idea of them being anything more than friends. They’d been best friends for a decade, and it had been enough at the time. It could be enough again. Once, she had begged the universe to just let Fitz _wake up_. Maybe she should have specified in what condition, but her wish had been granted and she’s squandering it.

Fitz smiles shyly at her when she joins them in the common room. Trip, Mack, and Skye are arguing about which movie to watch, and Hunter tosses her a beer. Hunter’s ex-wife/on-again girlfriend Bobbi is making popcorn in the kitchen and settles down next to Jemma when she returns.

Everyone but her loudly mocks the movie as they watch it. When Fitz laughs at something Mack says, Jemma realizes that she hasn’t made him laugh like that since before the accident. She’s too many beers in, exhausted, and she can feel it going to her head.  Suddenly, everything clarifies, her mind clicking into focus. _It’s her_. She’s the one making Fitz worse, making him uncomfortable. In the year that she’s spent working with him, trying desperately to make him remember her, to remember _them_ , he’s learned to accept his current life. He’s re-formed relationships with everyone else but her, he’s friends with everyone but her.

She chokes on her next gulp of beer and Hunter grabs it from her hand, pounding her back. “That might be enough for you, love.”

She snatches it back angrily, sloshing bitter-smelling liquid all over his trousers.

“Hey, hey, calm down, sweetheart!”

“Don’t call me _sweetheart_ ,” she bites out, and she can’t even be mortified that tears are streaming down her face.

Bobbi not-so-subtlety hits Hunter’s shoulder as Skye leans in and whispers in her ear: “Are you okay, Jemma?”

“I’m _fine,_ ” she spits, much too loudly, and sees that the others are all staring at her in shock. Jemma has never felt so exposed and alone and misunderstood. She stumbles off the couch.

“I’m fine,” she says again. “Just…just leave me alone.”

She makes it back to her bunk, locking the door and sliding down to the floor, breathing heavily. _This is ridiculous_ she thinks as she finishes her beer. This isn’t who she is. She remembers months ago Coulson recommending counseling, saying he felt she might be suffering from PTSD. She had promised to look into it, but she’d ignored his suggestion. She didn’t have PTSD. What did she even have to be traumatized about? The med pod that she’d escaped unharmed? A vague love-confession from her best friend? It’s not like they’d even gone on a date before he’d forgotten her. It’s not like he hadn’t survived. She was the one who had ruined all of her chances.

She’s being weak, and she doesn’t know how to stop this spiral of self-hatred.

When she thinks of a plan, part of her knows it’s the worst idea she’s ever had. But the rest of her is tired of feeling so defeated. Tired of being trapped in the worst version of her universe. Fitz forgot her and he seems the happiest he’s ever been. Why doesn’t she deserve the same comfort?

With alcohol-fueled bravery, she sneaks into the lab, past the doors that Coulson has coded, as if none of them were smart enough to work around it.

When her eyes adjust to the darkness and she sees the nightmarish machine, a sense of peace fills her for the first time since Ward sent her to die at the bottom of the ocean. She can do this, she knows she can.

She programs the machine, cockily proud of herself for being able to do this drunk. SHIELD would be crippled without her expertise, and she feels guilty about that, she really does. But she’s given everything she can and now she’s hollowed out. She misses who she used to be; she just wants a reset.

She lays down and takes a deep breath. _Goodbye,_ she whispers. _I love you, but I can’t do this anymore_.

Then she turns the machine on and screams.

++

Bobbi is the first to reach Jemma; she throws herself over Jemma’s flailing body as she yells at the others to turn the machine off.

“I don’t know how!” Skye wails, hands trembling as she fumbles with the controls.

“Just shut the power off, it’s killing her,” Mack roars, almost drowned out by Jemma’s tortured screams.

“No!” Fitz shouts, startling the others. “It’s-it’s-it’s dangerous. Her br-brain, the p-p-power…” He hasn’t stumbled over his words this badly in a long time and his hand is jerking uncontrollably at his side.

“Can you shut it off?” Bobbi asks, grunting as Jemma’s spasms nearly throw her off.

Fitz looks like he might cry or be sick, but he stands next to Skye, directing her as best he can remember, praying that his best is good enough.

May and Coulson rush in as the machine finally powers down, the only sound everyone’s heavy breathing as they pull Jemma out and attempt to determine her condition. Fitz falls into a nearby chair and covers his face with his hands, willing the screams to stop echoing in his brain. The sound reverberates and unlocks something inside him. He sees a flash of her standing in front of him, holding an oxygen tank, tears streaming down her face. He had said something; he had felt calm but she had screamed and now it’s torturing him. Why couldn’t he remember?

“What the hell is going on here?” Coulson yells, vein throbbing in his forehead.

The team looks at him, shocked and voiceless, until faint hiccuping sobs make them turn back to Jemma, who is struggling to sit up.

“Hey, easy, Jemma, easy,” says Bobbi, reaching over to steady her.

Jemma looks at her and then at the rest of them, pupils blown wide. “Where am I? Who are you people?”


	2. Part II - Fitz

1.  
_Chemistry lab_  
_Brown eyes_  
_English_  
_Nervous?_

2.   
_Monkeys_  
_Sunburn_  
_Ice cream_  
_Brown eyes_  
_Laughing_

3.  
_A woman jumping (plane??)_  
_Screaming_  
_Suicide?_  
_Sick/virus_  
_~~Vaccine~~ _ _antiserum_

4.  
_Water_  
_The first law of thermodynamics_  
_Drowning?_

He shows Skye his journal once. He can’t be certain they’re not all just meaningless dreams, his brain trying to create patterns out of nothing, but some seem to recur often and in flashes during the day. Those feel different—important.

Her eyes glisten as she reads the entries. “I don’t know all the details,” she says, “but these… most of these are about Jemma.”

“Sim-Simmons?” he asks in surprise. “English, brown eyes… makes sense. But-but she never t-talks to me. Ju-just about work. I don’t think she l-likes me much.”

“Fitz,” Skye sighs. He’s glad they both seem to be over their awkward kiss of a month ago. Skye is one of his closest friends, at least After, so he’s glad he didn’t ruin their friendship. Especially when he knows they were both mostly confused and lonely. Especially when she’s not the one haunting his dreams.

“It’s hard for her,” she says finally. “She’s lost so much.”

The next night he dreams:  
_Water_  
_The first law of thermodynamics_  
_Woman screaming_  
_More than that?_  
_(More than what??)_  
_Drowning_

He doesn’t know what Dr. Simmons has lost, but he’s lost the most precious thing in his life and he doesn’t even know what it is.

++

Fitz peeks around the corner, relaxing when he sees Jemma sitting up in bed reading a book.

“Hey, Jemma. I, uh, brought you s-some tea,” he offers. “If-if you want company?”

Jemma blinks up at him cautiously but accepts the mug. She sips carefully and smiles. “Just how I like it.”

Fitz grins, gesturing to the chair next to the bed, and she nods.

“Do you re-remember anything?”

Jemma shakes her head regretfully and winces at the motion. “My head hurts. I’ve been reading up on some of the files around here; it’s unbelievable, really. The facilities, the research.”

She pauses, then pushes through her obvious discomfort. “I overheard some of the others talking. They said I did this to myself, but I have no idea why. Do you?”

Fitz shifts slightly in his seat, drumming his fingers nervously against his thigh. “Not really. We were—there was an accident, l-last year. I can’t remember much either. My brain, it’s damaged.”

He holds up his bad hand, showing her the slight tremors, and she looks at him curiously. Fitz feels his breath hitch. It’s the first time since he woke up that Jemma has met his eyes this openly, focusing on him so intently and honestly. _Brown eyes. English_.

“So uh, I just wanted to s-say hi. ‘Cause I know what you’re going through. I’m much b-better now. Before, I couldn’t even speak. B-but now I’m able to work in the lab. We uh, work t-together, actually.”

“Do we, really?” She seems impressed, and Fitz tries to tamp down his longing. The last thing he needs is to continue falling for Jemma; he knew he’d hurt her this past year, but he hadn’t meant to. _She_ had known who he was and still chosen this path. When he had first glimpsed her through the window, he was determined to resent her. This isn’t what you _do_ ; this isn’t how you handle difficulties. And if she has truly forgotten the past decade, there’s no one else to confirm the vague impressions he’s been having, to tell him what’s real and what isn’t.

But she’s staring up at him with such hope, and Fitz is heartbroken to realize that he’d never before seen Jemma without worry lines creased into her forehead. She had been gradually shrinking further and further into herself, and as much as he felt angry and confused and devastated, he finds that he can’t blame her for trying to save herself.

He hands her a small notebook. “I never told you, but b-before you uh,” he falters, cheeks flushing.

“Before I apparently acted recklessly and almost killed myself for some as yet unknown reason?”

“Er… yeah, that. Before that, I was feeling like… maybe I was re-remembering some things. I’ve been writing them d-down. Thought maybe it would help you.”

She turns the notebook over in her hands, running her fingers along the spine. “Why are you helping me? Everyone else seems so angry with me.”

Tears burn in Fitz’s eyes and he has to force himself to answer. A year (perhaps _years_ ) of masking his own vulnerability around her proves to be the hardest habit to break. But at this point, he has so little left of himself to lose.

“After my accident, you h-helped me so much. You did everything you c-could. I wanted… want to be friends, but I d-didn’t know… you were just so sad. I felt like it was my fault and I thought…” He trails off, shrugging. “I think I did this to you. But I c-care about you, and I want to help.”

Jemma nods, tears hanging in her own lashes. “I don’t really understand what happened, but I’m sure it wasn't your fault. I do appreciate this, though.”

He nods and gets up to leave. Seeing her in the hospital bed, looking scared and young, has untethered something inside him, and he needs to retreat so he can cry in peace.

++

Skye has never seen Coulson more furious as he paces his office, trying to decide what to do with Jemma. Right now, she’s still recovering in the med bay. She’s confused and terrified, hardly talking to anyone but Fitz.

“We can’t just send her away,” Skye insists. “She doesn’t even have an identity anymore; we erased all of that.”

“We’re already low on resources,” Coulson argues. “Fitz has improved enough to be valuable, but he’s still not operating at his pre-accident level. And now we’re supposed to start all over with Simmons? We can’t afford this, Skye.”

“Bobbi’s a biochemist. She can pick up the slack, help train Jemma again. And her brain hasn’t been _damaged,_ like Fitz’s. It will be much faster, I know it.”

“And then what? She’s just going to happily start working for a secret organization marked as a terrorist group? What if she remembers? The kind of person who would subject herself to that machine is unstable and not fit for duty.”

Skye feels tears prickling. “This is our fault. We should have known she was pushing herself too hard. You should’ve… you should have _made_ her see a counselor. We should have done _something_.” Skye hadn’t meant to be so accusatory, but she’s losing her family one by one and doesn’t know how to make it stop.

Coulson stiffens and then sits heavily at his desk. “I know,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “I know.”

++

7.  
_Aliens!!/New York City_  
_Academy lockdown_  
_Scared, she held my hand_

12.  
_Mum_  
_Holidaying in Scotland_  
_Train station_  
_English girl_  
_Stuffed monkey/signed physics book_  
_She’s so cold here (stole my jumper?)_

26.  
_Mum teasing me_  
_Yelling_  
_Apologizing/I feel horrible_  
_We never fight_  
_Why was I angry??_

31.  
_Cat liver_  
_ruined lunch_  
_???_

42.

\----------

++

Fitz had torn the last entry out. It’s not that he doesn’t want Jemma to see it, but he knows she’s overwhelmed. The last thing she needs is to feel pressured into anything ten days after waking up without a decade of her life. Of all people, he understands what she needs now. But he also finally understands just how much it hurts to be left on the other side.

 _42._  
_Top grades/graduation/field assessments/failing/_  
_relieved?_  
_hugging, brown eyes crying_  
_virus/screaming_  
_she smiles/she jumps_  
_the world is ending/it’s not ending_  
_change_  
_Trip smiling/anger (why??)_  
_Ward, he cares about us_  
_he doesn’t care about us_  
_the first law of thermodynamics_  
_beautiful/she’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen_  
_scared/hungry/dying_  
_she can live_  
_no no no no no_  
_take it/no_  
_more than that (more than what?)_  
_more than best friends_  
_more than everything_  
_screaming/drowning_  
_I think I’m in love with you_  
_I think I’ve been in love with you forever_  
_I thought we could fix this together._

++

Coulson relents after all; not that he would have done otherwise. He talks with May ( _at_ May) as she does taiji in the morning, stumbling over all the reasons to keep Jemma but coming back to: she’s family, and this is our responsibility.

May grabs a bottle of water on her way out but pauses to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Call Andrew,” is all she offers, and so he does.

++

Fitz takes Jemma to see her parents but waits at a pub while she visits them. From what he vaguely remembers, he thinks the sight of both of them suffering from amnesia and other unnameable traumas would be a tad overwhelming.

Jemma slides up next to him hours later, cheeks red and eyes puffy, but she’s smiling. Her parents have given her letters and photo albums, and they spend the rest of the evening flipping through the books. Jemma seems surprised at how much of her life is filled with him, but Fitz realized long ago just how much he’d lost.

“You know, I could use that machine again,” Jemma says quietly, sipping at her water. She hasn’t had alcohol since her blood work came back from that night months ago.

“Jemma, it’s dangerous. You’re l-lucky you weren’t k-killed.”

“But I think between us we could manage it safely. Coulson probably wouldn’t allow it, but what if it’s the only way for me to get those memories back?”

“You erased them for a reason,” he says softly, ignoring the persistent ache in his chest.

“Yes, I did. That reason being that I was _drunk_ and upset and obviously suffering from PTSD amongst other issues. I never would have done something like that otherwise.”

“And if it works, then w-what? You get upset and erase them again? You’ll k-kill yourself in this cycle.”

Jemma bristles. “It was a stupid mistake after a year of trauma. It’s not going to happen again just because I get _upset_ every now and then. Don’t be so ridiculous!”

“You chose this!” he explodes, even though he promised himself he wouldn’t. “You _chose_ to forget us! To forget _me._ I’m not be-being ridiculous.” He stands up, shaking, and leaves a fistful of pound notes on the table.

When she leaves the pub ten minutes later he’s sitting on a nearby bench, head in his hands. She can tell from his breathing that he’s crying.

She lowers herself next to him gently, wondering why she feels so drawn to him when they only seem capable of hurting each other. This must be new; their partnership can’t always have been like this.

“I’m sorry,” she says. When he doesn’t respond, she rests her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. “Sometimes I think I’m remembering things, but I can’t tell if it’s just because of what I read in your notebook.”

“What do you remember?” he asks, tears thickening his brogue.

“It’s hard to explain. It’s more like feelings—falling, being sick, drowning. The thing is, there are all these terrible images I have, but mostly I remember feeling so… fulfilled. So happy. That’s why I can’t believe I erased those memories. That’s why I want them back.”

Fitz finally opens his eyes and looks at her. “I s-still don’t think you should. It’s too risky.”

“Okay,” she relents. “Maybe we can continue researching and see if we can fix up the machine better? In the meantime, maybe I’ll remember on my own.”

He nods and there’s a pause as they both concentrate on slowing down their desperate heartbeats. They’re sitting on a bench in Sheffield alive and together, he reminds himself, and that’s a start.

“I’ve been seeing Andrew,” she admits, after the silence has settled over them like a favorite blanket. “I really like him. You know, for someone with a PhD in a soft science.”

“Yeah? I uh… I’ve thought about talking to him, actually. It makes me n-nervous though.”

“I think you’d like him. Plus, did you know that he’s May’s _ex-husband?_ ”

“No way. Agent May was m-married? I bet they made an odd pair. He l-listens for a living, and she doesn’t speak.”

Jemma laughs and the sound loosens a knot in his chest that he hadn’t thought could ever be undone.

“Well, I’m just saying, if you start seeing him too maybe he’ll have to stick around longer. Perhaps spending some time together could rekindle things between him and May. Have you seen the way he looks at her?”

“‘Course, Jemma,” he scoffs. “I have eyes, don’t I?” He had recognized Andrew’s soft, pained gaze immediately as the kindred expression to the look he can barely hide around Jemma, but he can’t find it in himself to care all that much anymore. He has a feeling everyone knew before he did, anyway.

Jemma sighs, hugging the photo albums to her chest. “We’ll be okay, don’t you think? We’re friends, aren’t we?”

He looks at her, warm brown eyes that he’d fallen in love with, forgotten, and fallen in love with again. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

++

Somehow, and it’s a miracle if he’s ever believed in one, they’ve settled back into a routine as co-heads of the science division. Bobbi had been only too happy to relinquish the role once Jemma seemed more or less caught up. She found their organizational system ridiculous, of all things. As grateful as he’d been for Bobbi’s friendship and support, he finds that working with Jemma in the lab again is aligning his life back the way he knew it was always meant to be.

People are friendly with Jemma, but they underestimate her strength and tread lightly around her. It’s like a bizarre alternate version of their early days when they’d isolated themselves in work by choice.

Jemma comes up to him mid-afternoon when the lab techs are on break and silently hands him a picture. They’re smiling in front of the temple in Peru ( _0-8-4, shooting, congratulations-Agent-Ward, not field ready, blowing a hole in the plane)_ , impossibly young and excited. The picture has been folded and refolded, worn from Jemma’s fingers tracing the edges.

“Do you remember this?” she asks, not meeting his eyes.

“Yeah, mostly.” He smiles wryly. “Not sure how we could forget something so bl-bloody terrifying.”

Jemma doesn’t respond, twisting her fingers as if itching to take back the photograph, having already exposed too much of herself.

“What’s wrong? Do you re-remember this?”

“A little. I just… do you remember me? From when we first met? From the Academy and Sci-Ops?” Her face is a carefully constructed mask, and Fitz worries if he breathes too harshly she’ll fall apart.

“I remember some of it. Most of it’s still in fragments, but I remember feelings and… it’s like trying to get to the surface. I’m so close, but on the other side everything’s dis-distorted. Why?”

Jemma steps toward him instinctively but doesn’t touch him. These days, she feels the need to ask permission, but she’s not yet brave enough to say the words.

“That person, the person I was when we met, the person I was in Peru… she would be so ashamed of me, don’t you think? Andrew thinks I’m having problems letting go of that. He says I’m not allowing myself to move forward in my life because I’m worried that who I am now is fundamentally different from who I was in the past, and that I don’t like who I am now. Or that the person I think I was in the past wouldn’t like me now. Wouldn’t approve of the choices I’ve made, you know? It’s all very confusing.” She huffs in frustration, rolling her eyes dismissively, but he knows it’s taken so much for her to voice these fears aloud, to set them free into the world. He can’t believe he worried about breaking her when she’s always been the stronger one.

“She m-might have been ashamed of you,” Fitz allows, and Jemma smiles sadly, as if she’d known he’d eventually be the one to break her heart after all. He pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, catching her eyes with his and trying to be as courageous as she’s been.

“But the Jemma I knew was always k-kind to everyone but herself. She pushed herself to be the b-best in everything. She forgave everyone el-else their mistakes, but she never forgave her own. It took me a long time to realize that because to me… everything she did was per-perfect. Neither of us is the same as we were when we met. We’re different now, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Jemma looks at him, considering, before impulsively closing the only distance left between them. She grabs him tightly around the waist, letting her head settle against his heart where it has ached to rest. His arms hang at his sides uselessly until his brain catches up, and then he holds her as close to himself as he dares. When she cries, he can feel the tension draining from her and he thinks that maybe she can learn to forgive herself after all.

This is the real miracle, then: He’s getting his best friend back, after everything, and it’s enough.

++

Fitz is working late in the lab one night when Skye comes by on her way back from an op.

“Hey, Fitzy,” she calls. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Jemma and I are having a Doctor Who m-marathon tonight, actually, as s-soon as I’m finished up here. You’re welcome to join.”

Skye crinkles her nose. “Ugh, no thanks. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you two are BFFs again. I don't know how much more of that show I could take.”

He grimaces. “I can’t _believe_ I asked you out.”

Skye snorts. “Yeaaaah, look, we all make mistakes. Horrible, terrible, idiotic mistakes.”

“ _Thanks_ , Skye.”

She grins and gives him a hug. “I’m just kidding. But really, I am glad that you and Jemma are being all Fitzsimmonsy again. Have you told her about… you know, the L-word?”

Fitz rolls his eyes. “You’re truly my most m-mature friend, Skye.”

Skye punches him in the arm. “You’re in love with Jemma, so naturally you’re gonna wait another decade to say anything? You made a move on me within months!”

“Yeah, well, I just asked you on a d-date. It didn’t feel like life or death with you.”

Skye clutches at her heart dramatically. “Oh, Romeo, you truly wound me. I’ll have you know that I am an _excellent_ catch. _And_ I’ve never been known to leave biological samples next to people’s lunches.”

Fitz laughs as he finishes putting away his work. He tosses Skye some of the chocolate that he keeps illicitly stashed away in the lab.

She chews happily and pauses on her way out the door. “I’m just saying, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to be honest when it’s _not_ a life-or-death situation?”

Fitz still can’t remember everything about his friendship with Skye before the accident, but he knows he’s always hated it when she’s right.

++

“What’s this?” Jemma asks, holding up the paper torn from his dream notebook.

“Uh… where’d you get that?” he counters, desperately willing his brain to work faster, _just this once for the love of God._

“You had it as a bookmark in that physics journal you let me borrow.”

He can’t read in her expression exactly how she feels about it, and it’s making him fidget.

“Is this really how you feel about me?”

He nods slowly, carefully. _You’re not dying, you’re not dying._

“Even now? Even after… everything?”

Fitz sucks in a breath, reminding himself that of everything they’ve experienced in the past year and a half, having an honest conversation won’t kill him. At the very least, it will stop Skye’s annoying nagging. _You’re not dying._

“Yeah. I uh, I messed everything up, Jemma. I remember telling you so you would take the oxygen. I re-remember that… I wasn’t fair. I forced you because I j-just… I wasn’t strong enough to live in a w-world without you in it. And then when I didn’t remember, I still… I liked you. A lot. But I was so busy trying to impress you because you’re-you’re _brilliant_. I couldn't be at ease around you. I really hurt you, I just… I didn’t realize it. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t say anything else, and he immediately hurries to reassure her. “I tore that out because I didn’t want you r-reading it and f-feeling obligated. You… you didn’t even remember me. It means a lot to me that we’re friends again. I’m happy just being your friend, I promise.”

“I’m not,” Jemma says, meeting his eyes with a look he can’t fathom.

“You’re not?” Fitz’s heart is beating rapidly. He has no idea what he’ll do if he’s once again trapped in a nightmare in which he’s not friends with Jemma Simmons.

“No, I’m not.” And then she’s crossing the room and tugging his face down to meet hers, grazing her lips over his, twining her fingers through the curls at the back of his head. She’s taking his only breath all over again, and for the first time since he woke up with nothing, he thinks he can finally reach the surface.

++

Fitz wakes slowly from a dream to the sound of Jemma crying into her pillow.

“Jems? Jemma? What’s wrong? It’s okay, it’s just a dream, I promise.” In the months that they’ve spent sleeping together, he’s found that he rarely has nightmares anymore, but Jemma’s have gotten more frequent as more of her memories have returned.

Jemma turns over, covering her mouth with her hand as she snorts back laughter. “I’m so sorry, Fitz. I didn’t mean to wake you, I just—” and she breaks off again, tears streaming down her face as her whole body shakes with barely-suppressed giggles.

“What is happening right now?” Satisfied that she’s not upset, his heart rate has returned to normal and he’s starting to feel grumpy about being awake at 5am.

“The bloody _cat_ ,” she chokes out. “I can remember it! You were so _terrified_!”

“I was not terrified! It’s unsanitary, just leaving animal p-parts around next to people’s lunches!”

“Oh, you know that’s why you’re not supposed to be eating in the lab anyway. That refrigerator was specifically for specimens. Just because _you_ were too lazy to use the refrigerator in the student lounge—”

“I can’t _believe_ we’re having this argument again. This is why physics is the superior science. _Everyone_ knows that. B-bloody cat livers just lying around everywhere, it’s barbaric.”

“You can be such a baby, honestly, Fitz.”

Fitz’s mouth drops open and he turns around, huffing. Jemma wraps her arms around him and kisses sweetly between his shoulder blades. “Okay, you’re not a baby. I’m sorry, Fitz.”

“Yeah, it’s not very con-convincing when I can feel you laughing.”

Jemma slides her hands down his front. “And your moping isn’t very convincing when I can feel other things.” She snickers as he groans.

“That’s not fair,” he says, turning around and kissing her deeply.

“I can’t help it, I like winning.”

“I know you do,” he smirks. He peppers kisses along her forehead, her jawline, marveling for the millionth time at being given another chance with her. “And I’m glad you’re recovering some h-happy memories, even if they do involve cat livers.”

Jemma grins up at him, looking carefree and radiant, like in all his favorite memories of her. She draws him in, pulling until he’s pressed on top of her, his body warm and deliciously heavy on hers. “Me too,” she whispers, grazing his ear with her lips and making him shiver. “But I’m more interested in making new memories.”

Fitz closes his eyes, following her mouth, following her anywhere.

 _I love you_ , he thinks. _I love you I love you I love you._

And then, because nothing in the universe is stopping him, he says it aloud and drowns in her smile.


End file.
